


Rose Clouds

by Sola_Ircadia



Category: Tekken
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Fluff and Smut, Intimacy, Introspection, M/M, Self-Indulgent, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2019-01-22 18:08:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12487728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sola_Ircadia/pseuds/Sola_Ircadia
Summary: It’s such a tenuous balance they manage, all like it’s some extended metaphor for their own lives:Don’t you dare push too far, but don’t you dare let go.





	Rose Clouds

**Author's Note:**

> Nothing like exceedingly self-indulgent fluff to make your own day better. Thanks for reading, and take care!

 

_“Let me take care of you.”_

 

Normally, Kazuya would bristle at a statement like that. He doesn’t appreciate being coddled or treated like something fragile, has never really liked closeness just for the sake of being close. He certainly has an agenda against being patronized, and it’s simply better not to even attempt initiating any sort of intimacy with him. No matter the intention, perception always begins and ends at the mind of the one who is perceiving it.

 

No, Kazuya would not normally take to being told such a sweet, almost indulgent sort of thing, but tonight is already off-the-rails unusual for them. He supposes that letting it all slide might be in his best interests at this point.

 

It’s this oddly and uncharacteristically compliant mindset that has found him here, chest-deep in warm, bubbly water, sharing (albeit unreasonably expansive) bathtub space with the same person who offered to take care of him. Who is definitely not someone that he has that sort of relationship with. The way that they usually “take care of” each other is pretty much nontraditional by most standards.

 

“Something on your mind, Kazu-chan?”

 

Kazuya bites back a growl, knowing that it would just amuse his brother instead of intimidating him. He used to be easier to frighten, intentionally or otherwise, back when he was younger and angrier and all of his past traumas from his time on the streets were closer to his heart. Nowadays, it’s almost impossible to faze him. Kazuya isn’t sure if he should be annoyed at his imperviousness or grudgingly impressed.

 

As usual, it’s probably some secretive mixture of both, not that he’ll ever admit such an incriminating thing.

 

“I’ll leave,” he says instead, every nerve hyper-aware of the way that Lee has settled easily into the tub behind him. “Don’t push it.”

 

“My, my.” He can hear the trademark smirk in his brother’s voice, the slightly sharper one he perfected in their younger days that Kazuya doesn’t see as often anymore. “Always so rude, aren’t you?”

 

Lee punctuates his words with a firm push of his fingers into Kazuya’s back, right in a spot that just feels fucking _amazing_. Kazuya shuts his eyes and exhales slowly, biting back a sigh when Lee presses his thumbs against the base of his neck. _Don’t make a sound_. Lee would never let him hear the end of it if he allowed any sort of vocal encouragement out. It’s way too early on in this to be embarrassing himself by actually showing his appreciation, anyway.

 

He’s always been good at this, and he’s been giving Kazuya impromptu massages since they were teenagers. Kazuya, of course, always makes a point of objecting to such treatment, and hardly ever bothers with thanks afterwards. Lee takes this in stride with all of his usual grace and lack of caring, probably because he knows that Kazuya actually does like it. He doesn’t need the verbal affirmation, and if this didn’t feel so damn good, Kazuya would probably be pretty pissed about that.

 

It _has_ been a while since they’ve had any time to themselves, though. Running an entire business and flirting with global warfare really takes up a lot of their time, and they run in very different circles to boot. This little meeting at one of Lee’s many, many private homes had almost been entirely up to chance, and although he’ll never admit it, Kazuya had found himself looking forward to seeing him again. They’d been forced to leave many things unfinished after their last tryst, and Kazuya had _not_ been pleased about the interruption. They could rarely afford to be spontaneous – despite being the end-all, be-all of their respective companies, they still had to attend to them if called upon, and the last incident had only served to solidify that particular commandment. The fact that such a thing had happened at the expense of their minimal time together had most certainly not helped.

 

“You are so _tense_.” Lee mutters, his fingers busy along the line of Kazuya’s neck and shoulders. “It’s your posture, I swear.”

 

“My posture’s fine.” Kazuya says stubbornly. “You’re the one prancing around all the time.”

 

“With my back straight and my head held high, yes. You do know what good posture looks like, don’t you, Kazuya?”

 

“My back is straight.”

 

“Mhm. You have this habit of tilting your head down and glaring at people through your eyebrows.”

 

Kazuya doesn’t dignify that with a response, deciding that he is quite done with this conversation. Lee knows better than to interpret his silence as a sign of defeat, but does make a very successful point of digging right into a place of Kazuya’s back that makes him sigh loudly in relief.

 

“Ah. You liked that one.”

 

Kazuya grumbles, crossing his arms, and Lee laughs. He does that often, usually at Kazuya’s expense, although it wasn’t always that way. He’d gone through broad phases in his life, each one different than the last, and certain behaviors had come and gone over the years like it was an easy thing to do. He hadn’t laughed much when he’d first arrived at the Mishima household, but that had changed sooner rather than later, and Kazuya had often been the butt of Lee’s personal sense of humor. As much as he’d disliked that, however, it had been infinitely better than the alternative scenario that he’d unintentionally created while he’d been running the Zaibatsu in which Lee had hardly laughed at all. Seeing him like this now, confident and capable and tempered in so many of the right ways by his past experiences, reassures Kazuya for some strange reason or another. He prefers not to dwell on it.

 

As it stands, he isn’t dwelling on anything – the perfect pressure and delicacy of touch that his brother is applying to his neck is so damn good that he can almost feel his thought processes slowing down. The best thing to do right now is to just close his eyes and settle in for the ride, which he inevitably does, bodily autonomy be damned. Looks like Lee wins this round, after all.

 

It feels like forever before he comes to again, fuzzy and slow as he blinks drowsily in the low lighting of the bathroom. It hasn’t really been that long, judging by the retained warmth of the water, but he feels considerably more relaxed than he had when they’d started this little session. He wonders what brought him out of his trance.

 

His question is answered when Lee shifts behind him, hands careful against his back, seemingly focusing on something there. He leans in, and then Kazuya feels Lee’s fingertips moving against his skin, feather-light and almost teasing, mapping out the lines of his body. His lips follow, soft and almost reverent as they press gently against the scars on his back. He shifts questioningly.

 

“What are you doing?” Oddly enough, his voice sounds a little gruffer than usual.

 

“Looking.”

 

“Doesn’t _feel_ like looking.” He says, and Lee laughs quietly at the imperious note in his tone.

 

“Alright. Let’s try memorizing, then.”

 

 _That_ sounds even more problematic than his previous assumption. Kazuya narrows his eyes, but doesn’t say anything else. No point in trying to figure out all of Lee’s weird shit, anyway, although he actually kind of _would_ like to know just what the hell he means by that.

 

It feels pretty much like more of the same, and Kazuya starts to relax again as his brother refrains from doing anything too terribly startling. His focus is evident by the way that he breathes, slow and steady, the contact of his fingertips against Kazuya’s back light and almost measured in the way that his fingers trace along scars and muscle and the curve of his spine. Hands drift up his sides and along his ribs, lingering briefly on the small abrasions there as Lee leans forward and brushes an impossibly soft trail of kisses along the firm line of his shoulder. Kazuya, for lack of a better feeling, is baffled.

 

“You,” he starts, but stops when the warmth leaves and Lee stands up behind him. Kazuya catches his gaze when he steps out and grabs a towel, and the pleased glint in his eye does not go unnoticed. He frowns, but remains silent.

 

Lee dries himself off as Kazuya watches, the cursory nature of the job not doing anything to detract from the permanent grace of his movements. He’s all easy elegance and assured dexterity, and the way that the energy extends all the way into his fingertips when he moves his arms? The way he shakes his hair out and runs his fingers through it, careless and meticulous all at once? No one has ever been as deliberately natural as Lee when he’s aware of his audience. He deftly wraps the towel around his waist and still, Kazuya studies him, thoughts racing and simultaneously blank all at once.

 

“Come on.” Lee finally glances at him over his shoulder, indicating with a tilt of his head and a smile. “The bed is this way.”

 

Kazuya is more than willing to follow.

 

* * *

 

His brother is waiting for him when Kazuya reaches the bedroom, the towel he’d been using previously now resting discarded on the floor. Lee himself has already found a place on the gigantic mattress, seemingly not paying any attention and situated comfortably among expensive silk sheets, the light color of which compliment his skin and hair in a noticeably pleasing way. With anyone else, Kazuya would assume such a particular design detail was unintentional, but honestly? This is Lee he’s dealing with. Any and all matters of aesthetic are most certainly done on purpose, and it works. Of course. Kazuya himself is well-aware of those sorts of visual tricks, and although he doesn’t use them the way Lee does, he is not immune to the effects they have.

 

And there is certainly an effect present here. Lee looks good anywhere, at nearly any time, but the low lighting and color play suits him in a fashion that nothing else does. He isn’t doing anything, hasn’t even acknowledged Kazuya’s presence – it doesn’t matter. He is ethereal in this moment, equal parts shadowed and luminous, so unimaginably, breathtakingly beautiful in this state of merely existing that he hardly seems human anymore. In a way, it’s fitting; a god for a god, and no one else. Kazuya supposes he has Lee himself to thank for his impossibly high standards when it comes to this sort of thing, although looking at him now, he can hardly muster up any will to feel put out by that. Why would he bother with anyone else when this is something he could experience, instead?

 

Lee looks up and finally seems to notice Kazuya staring from the doorway. His mouth spreads into a slow, indulgent smile, and he beckons him closer, although he does remain mercifully silent.

 

The invitation has him moving before he’s actually conscious of it, and Kazuya makes a point of pausing so he can collect himself before joining his brother in the bed. This is somewhat unlike him, and it reminds him of when he was younger, unbalanced and uncertain as misplaced lust found its home in his veins every time Lee passed him by. It has been so long since those days, and yet he can remember them so clearly, the sleepless nights, the growing impatience, the final instance of snapping when he’d gotten the chance to make good on his desires at long last. Even now, with Lee looking at him the way he is, Kazuya feels the remnants of such juvenile indecisiveness.

 

“...think your bed is big enough?” He says by way of clearing his own thoughts, and Lee laughs.

 

“Just enough for the both of us.” He teases, and for the first time, Kazuya notices the small tube of lubricant on the bed next to him. “It’s an arrogance-sized mattress.”

 

As usual, Lee finds his own joke funnier than Kazuya does, and he’s still laughing when his brother drags him in for a kiss. He smiles against Kazuya’s mouth, relaxed and easy, taking it all in stride without any worry about where this is most definitely headed.

 

That hasn’t always been the case. Their earlier years are brighter in Kazuya’s memory than they should be, and for all their reckless treatment of each other, there were certain lines they knew better than to cross. Lee had many deep-seated fears that sometimes came through in spite of his personal efforts to the contrary, and Kazuya remembers his occasional moments of tense nervousness better than he would like to. He knows well that those things remain, but time has softened the blow somewhat – that, and there is little that Lee has to fear now. His personal fortitude transcends all expectations, and it shows.

 

It shows in how languid his kisses are, how bold his actions become as they move forward into different territory. One hand settles on the back of Kazuya’s neck while the other drifts between his thighs, all quiet intent and deliberate ease that has him biting back a moan when Lee wraps his fingers around his cock. Kazuya tangles a hand in Lee’s hair and kisses him harder, pulling him into his lap and groaning deep in his throat when he feels his brother grind slowly against him. _Gods_ , but that’s fucking _good_.

 

There’s always a part where it’s hard to get into a rhythm for very long. Their attentions shift – out of necessity for the sake of progression, of course – from task to task, making preparations for the final act so that everything goes as well as it’s supposed to. They’ve done this so many times that it’s almost second nature. Lee moves in all the right ways against him, and when Kazuya slicks up his fingers, he no longer sees that lingering nervousness in his younger brother’s eyes. All hesitation has been gone for a while now. They know each other so well in every regard; body, mind, and spirit are completely in sync, and when Lee starts making those telltale sounds in the back of his throat, Kazuya knows it’s okay to move on.

 

He shifts forward, kissing his brother’s throat; Lee opens his eyes and looks down at him before smirking, confident and comfortable as he positions himself better in Kazuya’s lap.

 

He groans, eyes nearly rolling back in his head as Lee sinks down on him. The tightness is fucking unbelievable, and no matter how many times they do this, he’ll never quite get over it. There’s so much _feeling_ , so much to take in all at once, everything from Lee’s grip on his shoulders to the muscles in his thighs to the smooth skin of his waist where Kazuya holds him steady. There’s always that moment of simultaneous lack and overload, and this is one of them – this endless time of holding still, of waiting, of trying to keep his composure about him even though all he wants to do is let it all out. It’s such a tenuous balance they manage, with Lee holding him down and Kazuya gripping him tightly, all like it’s some extended metaphor for their own lives.

 

_Don’t you dare push too far, but don’t you dare let go._

 

Lee braces his hands on Kazuya’s shoulders and rolls his hips, every muscle in his body working to make the right movements now that he’s decided it’s time to do so. Kazuya grips his thighs and arches up, watching as Lee’s expression of concentration melts into one of pleasure, mouth falling open as he moans Kazuya’s name. It’s a good reaction and Kazuya smirks, making a point of meeting his movements thrust for thrust as he cradles his brother tightly in his lap.

 

He likes holding him like this. He likes knowing that he can keep him close just as well as he can when Lee is beneath him, gripping his waist, his hips, his thighs as he shudders and arches against him. His breaths are hot against Kazuya’s skin, and he moans helplessly into the curve of his neck and shoulder when Kazuya increases his pace ever-so-slightly. He’s so receptive, and it’s delightful.

 

Kazuya flexes, trying to gauge his range of motion. Lee is otherwise occupied, not really paying attention to the particulars of Kazuya’s intentions, so he decides to take his chance and flips them over with a powerful twist of his body.

 

Lee gasps at the sudden change of positions, momentarily startled when his back hits the mattress, then moans loudly when Kazuya pushes back in at just the right angle. The mood has shifted ever so slightly now, and Kazuya intends on taking advantage of it. He sinks his teeth into Lee’s throat, marking him, and his brother whimpers softly at the delightfully mixed sensations. Kazuya likes to make a point of leaving bruises, and Lee likes the freedom of flaunting them later – panting desperately, he grips at Kazuya’s shoulders, his whole body trembling and covered in a fine film of sweat.

 

There’s a moment where Kazuya draws back, angling his thrusts so they strike a deeper place, and Lee keens his name like it’s the only thing he remembers how to say. There’s nothing weak or submissive about it, and although it had taken some time, Kazuya knows that now. Sure, there’s an edge of dominance to be had – everything he does has to be about power, somehow – but he’s well-aware of the fact that Lee’s hold on him carries a lot of weight. His actions here are just another part of the performance. He knows that Kazuya enjoys seeing him overwhelmed like this.

 

Lee looks up at him with glazed eyes, warm and inviting and so terribly alluring that Kazuya just has to kiss him, taking satisfaction in the soft moans vibrating against his mouth. There’s absolutely no pretense about him – he’s practically mewling now, and Kazuya pulls back to hear him, the whimpering, the panting, the weakened cries of his name as his brother draws closer to the point of no return. The familiarity of it all is like coming home at long last, and he groans quietly, murmuring Lee’s name in response.

 

He remembers all of it, every time before this one, how it was all the same and somehow entirely different. Despite their mutual desires, they’d had to learn to trust each other first, unable to relinquish that last bit of control unless they had established their motives first. Kazuya simply couldn’t concede to being in a position of self-determined weakness, whatever that place may have been – Lee’s only stipulation was that he couldn’t feel trapped. At the time, Kazuya had understood the deeper implications of that without having to ask and made a point of respecting it. Whether or not he’d kept that promise when he was half out of his mind when they were twenty-eight, though, he can’t really remember. He hopes to hell that he had.

 

But so many times had unwound just like this one, his brother beneath him, vulnerable and willing and so, so beautiful. He gave Kazuya everything and took all he had to offer, and he does the same now, arching and crying out as his climax overtakes him. Lee’s body locks up, muscles tightening around him, and Kazuya lets out a choked moan as the pleasure rushes up on him like an endless wave of sensation and light. Beneath him, Lee trembles, panting as his brother rides out his orgasm, a small huff of air escaping his lungs when Kazuya collapses forward against him.

 

“Hah...” he manages, one hand coming up to card lightly through Kazuya’s hair. “You alright?”

 

Kazuya’s response is muffled by Lee’s neck, and he laughs.

 

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

 

Kazuya lifts his head to look at him, following the line of his brother’s characteristic smirk and the slant of his perfect eyebrows. Even this close up, there aren’t any flaws to seek out and discover, and there’s something about this that pleases him more than it should. A god for a god, indeed.

 

They rearrange themselves in comfortable silence, foregoing soiled sheets to find a cleaner spot on the bed. Lee sticks close to him, as he often does at times like these – he’s never been much of a cuddler, but Kazuya has learned through observation and experience that he takes comfort in proximity and company after sexual activities. He’s usually willing to accommodate. They both sleep better in each other’s presence, anyway, so it’s more advantageous all around to indulge him.

 

“Mh.” Lee stretches out beside him, fingertips extended, before settling languidly into the mattress. “Will you be able to stay tomorrow night, too?”

 

Kazuya thinks about that for a moment, idly studying the smooth lines and curves of his brother’s body as he does so. On one hand, he really should go – he does have work to do, after all. They’re both very busy men with real-life agendas in the wings, and it’s only a matter of time before the paperwork stacks up to the ceiling. Lee, for all of his...extracurricular activities, is attuned to these sorts of things, as well.

 

On the other hand, though...Kazuya reaches out to touch his brother’s hair, which is still damp from earlier. Tonight’s activities had certainly been refreshing and not entirely unwelcome, but a certain edge remains to his cravings. The more time they have together to satiate those sorts of things, the better.

 

And they _were_ so rudely interrupted the last time, after all.

 

“Hm.” Kazuya moves to settle closer to Lee, smirking down at him when he catches the familiar glint in his brother’s eye. “Count on it.”

 

He leans down to kiss him and Lee meets him halfway.

 


End file.
